Copyright © by P. R. Lowe April 26, 2010

(found in old notebook, dated March 23, 2004)

Behold that which is not there.

The truth cannot be untold

and unfolds with meaning that has no words

girding my loins like the hand of love.

Are you Leprechaun related?

You, who believes not in witches

yet be closer to one than any I have known.

We are born to different fathers, not all human,

Dare I speak it?

lest I be cast away?

I stay near trees

for the ease with which they breathe,

take in all that is real.

Behold that which isn’t

it is.

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